The Church That Jei Built
by The-Great-Poptart
Summary: A look at the remains of Jei's psyche. And it's end. Very... Desturbing... Just read it, please.


Disclaimer: I own not Weiss Kreuz.

Warning: Makes almost no sense. It does to me because I wrote it. Besides, it involves Farfarello or should I say the part of Farfarello that is 'Jei.' Possibly offensive to Christians…

A/N: Out of my two muses, neither can be trusted. One being a drug addict, the other an alcoholic…

The drug addict decided to pick her lazy ass up a pull some weight…

Drug Addict: Hi, I deal with any gore, depressing shit, fight scenes, and some dry humor. In other words, I'm the sick and twisted part of Am's psyche. ::Looks at the Alcoholic:: The other part has an even lazier ass than mine…

Alcoholic: I heard that…

Am: Ignore him.

_~__~___~____~_____~____~___~__~_

The Church That Jei Built…

Mass. A time of worship to God. I can't help but look around at the intricately carved columns and walls around me, a mixture of both stone and wood. God's walls. God's columns. God's house. His beautifully carved angels frozen. Surrounding his house. Protecting it. Protecting me.

I bow before the towering cross in my elegant oak pew, awed by the magnificence before me. Delicate designs of leaves are carved around the stained glass that surround the rectangular church room that makes me feel dwarfed in the gigantic surrounds about me. The stained glass portray colorful pictures of a the deaths of saints. In between the glass, perfectly positioned in the middle of each one, two gigantic torches are mounted on stone holders in the wall. The torches, too , are dwarfed. Leaving an odd pattern of glass, torch, glass, torch- big, small, big, small on both sides of me. It would probably take ten of me to just match the height of one glass. And fifteen of me, arms spread out and not touching, to go from one stained glass to another beside it. I can count ten stained glass on either side, that's twenty in all. 

I look up to marvel at the ceiling as it goes up into an elegant point. The ceiling is made of wood as are the beams that support it and lead to the round stone columns, stone like the walls and floor. Although, a beautiful magenta carpet with gold outline run in between the pews, from large twin oak doors to the pedestal where the great cross stands. From the cross back the rug takes over the stone completely.

The columns around me are an alternation of round and intricately carved angels, some smiling, others crying. Most are crying. One column that is carved as an angel sits opposite and adjacent to a regular round stone column. And a regular round column does the same to a column carved into an angel. Almost giving the same effect as the stained glass and torches. 

The cross itself towers above almost everything else. Christ bleeds as he hangs, hangs as he bleeds. God's a fucking sadist. Does he enjoy seeing his son in pain? Is that why it's there, looming before me like a monstrosity? Or is it to make us remember what others have done, to make us think we OWE him something? This thing that hangs before me, so old it's nearly black…

No, no, no! No! No! NO! I won't think like that, like the other being that came from me. The one that surrounds my haven. This part of me that I built, that I bled for. My church, my home. So great in it's creation it makes me feel insignificant. I hate it.

I'm crying now, I can't help it. I really actually love God. I truly do! My God. My creator. That's why I'm praying now. Praying for forgiveness I can never have. That makes me angry. Why not! You oblige everyone else with that luxury, why not me, God!? My hands bled as I built God's church. And they bleed as I tear it down. But this blood is not mine. It's not fair! Whose is it? The blood of those that will show God my pain…

The angels stare at me as they cry, as I destroy them. It's not fair! He mocks me as I hide from myself. He refuses to help me! Like he did my parents… They didn't deserve to die either, Shouldn't they be pictured with the saints on the walls, in the glass!?

I'm crying again. The only thing I didn't tear down is the cross. I just stand before it. Watching. Bleeding. IT'S bleeding. And it's crumbling on it's own. I didn't make it do it, honest! It was probably from old age. Everything goes with time… Everything.

I look down, as I bleed. I find that I too am now on a cross. Crumbling. Becoming no more. The angels were supposed to protect me. Protect my haven. They FAILED. I finally crumble.

I laugh. I embrace the part of my self that was closed of. That failed in it's own protection, torn apart from the inside. I touch the blood. I drink it. He will know my pain. He will know his pain. He will know Jei's pain. Jei is not me. Jei is no more. I am Farfarello.

_~__~___~____~_____~____~___~__~_

Am: :: walks out and bows before the crowd:: The destruction of the remainder of the psyche that was Jei. A hidden part that survived the original creation of Farfarello reaching it's end. ::bows again:: Thank You.

Drug Addict: Review or my lazy as isn't getting up again. Even if you don't like it and thought it was boring…


End file.
